Secret Stalker, I Mean, Admirer
by Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare
Summary: Ever since the fourth of December, Kurt has been getting random presents on random days at random times. And they all seem to be from one guy who calls himself 'B'. Just who is this secret admirer? Kurt is determined to figure it out. .:. Kurt/?
1. First Part

**A/N: Yeah, so, this idea hit me like a tidalwave, screaming, WRITE ME, WRIIIIIITE MEEEEE!**

**So here I am, appeasing the plotbunny.**

**Damn you, plotbunny! I'm supposed to be writing more oneshots for the LVB/U! D:**

**Anyway, for those who know me, you all can guess the pairing. But I'm still only listing this fic as "Kurt H." because there will be a few plot twists and hints of other pairings as well, just to keep ya'll guessing. Because who knows, maybe I'll change my mind. ;D**

**Sneaky sneaky. C;**

**This fanfic won't be very long, however. So don't expect too much, okay?**

**Hey, did anyone else notice that they kinda failed to mention whether or not Dalton is a boarding school or not? I know it's private, but I assume it must not be boarding, since I don't remember hearing anything about dorms. Although on Google Maps, when my sister and I jokingly searched 'Lima, OH' and 'Dalton, OH,' they looked pretty far apart. So I dunno. :/**

**This is AU after the Christmas special episode, since that one was the last for a while (there's a hiatus that's supposed to last until about February, I heard. Wahh. I dislike hiatuses for TV shows; makes me have withdrawals. D: )**

**[Long author's note is long.]**

**Enjoy~!**

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**Part I**

It's not a date Kurt easily forgets. He stares at the calendar blankly, trying to sort out his thoughts. In red, three dates thus far this month have been circled: the fourth, the fifteenth, and the twenty-third.

Kurt smoothes his hair with one hand, blowing air out his mouth. He doesn't understand it. He's been getting random objects for a few weeks now, on scattered days, in unpredictable places.

The first object, sent to him on the fourth of December, was wrapped in white tissue paper and stuck to his front door. Finn had found it, and said it was addressed to Kurt. He handed his stepbrother the object, and Kurt had stared at it until Finn had asked, "Well, aren't you going to open it?"

Inside, there was a single head of a red rose, a little black around the edges from the cold, but stunning nonetheless. There was no note, save for the tag around the top of the tissue bundle, signed in typed text, "To Kurt."

Finn grinned at the time, laughing. "Looks like you've got a secret admirer," he remarked smugly.

Kurt had blushed and huffed, "I highly doubt one rose constitutes as the sign of a secret admirer. I'll wait to see if anything else shows up before I jump to that conclusion."

But it happened again. And then again. Next on the fifteenth, and then on the twenty-third.

On the fifteenth, there came a Harry Potter knitted scarf, Ravenclaw-colored, with a note that said once again in typed text, "To Kurt, because I owe you one, and thought you'd like something from those books you read."

On the twenty-third, there was a small black box on the hood of Kurt's car, a large red bow tacked onto its lid. It had snowed early this morning, so the person must have just been and gone. Inside the box was a new cell phone, and a typed note that read, "I heard your old iPhone broke, and you hadn't gotten a new one. So here's my old one. It unlocks with your birthday, since I thought that'd be easy for you. The phone number for this phone, so you can share it with other, is in the contacts list, along with a single contact: me. I have it set up to text only. Merry Christmas, Kurt."

And now it's the day after Christmas, and Kurt is left glancing between the calendar and this last gift, wondering whether or not to use the number, to text the person who keeps leaving him things.

He decides to try it out. Anonymous people annoy him, since Kurt likes knowing what's going on and who he's talking to, but it's also a little thrilling, so with a quick blur of moving thumbs, Kurt unlocks the phone, opens a new text to his first contact (he's long since added his family and shared with them the news of this person's thoughtfulness). He says simply, '_Thank you for the gifts.'_

Not ten minutes later, the phone blips in Kurt's pocket. He takes it out, and finds the message, _'I take it that means you liked them.'_

Smiling a bit, Kurt replies, _'Yes, actually. They were thoughtful, and giving me your phone was very kind of you. But hey, what can I call you? The contact you gave for yourself only says, 'Your Stalker.' As true as that is, it sounds creepy.'_

'_Why change it if it's the truth? Secret admirers ARE creepy, in case you haven't noticed.' _The mysterious person replies, and Kurt rolls his eyes.

'_Nevertheless, I would like to dwindle the possibilities. Can I at least know an initial? Or your gender?'_ Kurt texts, wondering if this person is a girl who somehow doesn't know that Kurt is gay.

'_I'm surprised you're not asking how I know where you live, or why I didn't give you anything at your locker or desk at school,' _the other replies, sounding amused. Another text pops up before Kurt can reply. _'And if you must know, I am a guy, and since I'm admiring you, you know what that implies. And as for an initial… you can call be B.'_

_B.?_ Kurt thinks to himself. His hopes soar in his chest, making his heart flutter. _That could mean Blaine!_ Does this mean Blaine is courting him? _That's so sweet,_ Kurt muses with a short giggle. Excited now, he texts back, _'Alright, B. It's nice to finally meet another gay guy in Lima besides myself. Which reminds me: you mentioned school. Do you know me from McKinley? Or do you attend Dalton?'_

There is a long pause in the chain of texts, and for a moment, Kurt worries that B. feels as though he's been figured out, and doesn't want to respond. But soon enough, a reply comes. _'Yes, I know you from school,'_ is all it says. No hint whether or not this person knows Kurt from McKinley or Dalton, and it's a tad disappointing.

'_Well, whoever you are, it's flattering. I look forward to any other surprises you have in store for me.'_

The guy seems content with this, because the last thing he texts is, _'Oh, there's much more, don't you worry. I'm going to take my time, though. And eventually, maybe I'll let you know who I am. But for now, I'll simply say goodnight.'_

Blushing minutely, Kurt tucks his phone away, a single text sent back to his admirer, returning the statement. And on that note, Kurt readies himself for bed.


	2. Second Part

**Part II**

Walking back into school after winter break, Kurt slides into his desk for his first period class, a smile on his lips. This morning, his secret stalker sent him a single text saying, _'Good morning, my lovely. In class today, wait for a delivery boy. He'll have something for you.'_

Kurt had wanted to reply, but ran out of time. He had to hurry and drive to Dalton, so not to be late. So while he fidgets in class, he wonders what's going to arrive, and when. Blaine comes o sit beside him, also smiling.

"Hey, Kurt. G'morning."

"Hey, Blaine," he grins back, wondering –_ hoping_ – that Blaine is actually his admirer, and merely acting cool when he's in fact grinning because he knows what's going to happen. It's a possibility, one that Kurt is relying on, if only a smidge. "How was your break? I only saw you once, on New Year's, at that Warbler party in the common room."

Blaine chuckles in that charming way he does, his dark, triangular brows lifting. "Oh, I know. My apologies, but I was busy. I was getting last-minute gifts and texting up a storm with people."

_Texting?_ Kurt smiles, because there had been plenty of texting with his secret admirer over break. He nudges a little closer. "Really? Sounds… interesting." He pauses, searching for something else to say, possibly to make Blaine confess to being Kurt's admirer. As fun as it is to be apart of a secret, it's even more fun to find out the secret without telling the other person, and simply play along. "Did you get anything special?" he hints, referring to getting something _for_ someone, as well as from.

"Yes, actually," Blaine answers with another smile. "I got a toboggan from my uncle, and we went sledding with it. It was a blast. I haven't owned one of those in ages, and it was nice to be on one again."

A tad disappointed, Kurt nods. "Wonderful," he remarks offhandedly. "What did your parents get you?"

Blaine shrugs. "A new phone. My own laptop, so I don't have to share the family computer any longer. Oh, and my mother made my favorite dessert on Christmas Eve. What about you?"

One thing stands out: a new phone. Kurt's heart skips a beat, thinking about how his admirer, too, got a new phone, which is why they had no need for their old one. But he had received the phone the day before Christmas Eve, which means either Blaine knew about the phone ahead of time and gave his old one away, or he got it early. And as for the birthday detail… well. He and Blaine swapped birthday dates within their first week of being friends, in order to compare who was older in that silly way young people do. So there's that…

"I see," Kurt says, smiling again. "As for me, I got a new phone from somebody, and then a hundred-fifty-dollar shopping spree."

"That's cool," Blaine says, smiling.

Soon the teacher is entering the room, announcing a pop quiz to test what they remember from before break. A choir of groaning students replies, scrounging for pencils as the teacher passes out the quiz.

All throughout first hour, Kurt continually glances at the doorway, expecting the "delivery boy" to arrive. When he doesn't, Kurt puts a little, wondering if what his admirer promised would instead come later, during a different period.

The bell rings, and Kurt heads off to his next class. Nothing happens, once again. But as soon as Kurt copies not even a full page of notes during his third-hour class, there's a knock at the door. His head darts upward, staring.

The teacher lets in the student, some Dalton freshman who Kurt doesn't recognize in the least. "Um," the boy stutters, looking at the teacher. "I was told by the office to bring this here? Something for a Kurt Hummel?"

"That's me," Kurt says, standing immediately. The boy looks red in the face, embarrassed.

"Er… well… here," he says, crossing the room and handing Kurt a large bouquet of flowers, ranging from pink and yellow carnations to baby's breath to red roses to little blue flowers Kurt can't name at the moment. He blinks, staring. "And, uh, there's this, too," the shy freshman continues, producing a small white box. "So, um… yeah… I'll be leaving now," he says uncomfortably. In a low whisper, he says to Kurt, "You're lucky."

Kurt gapes at the flowers and small box, wondering if they're chocolates.

"Open it, open it!" some guys cheer, rooting Kurt on.

His heart racing wildly, Kurt unties the single gold ribbon from the box and lifts the lid. Inside, there's a single turtle truffle and a note. It reads in a cursive font, "Hope you don't mind the flowers. I know they're girly, and you are definitely no girl. But I like you that way. Which is why I've giving you a truffle: because you're so good that I want to eat you right up."

Kurt flushes a deep crimson, not sure he wants to know what that final line implies. Instead, he tucks the note away into his bag so that no one else might read it. Then, every so casually, Kurt removes the chocolate, caramel, and pecan truffle shaped like a turtle from the box and pops it into his mouth. He savors how the caramel sticks to his teeth and the chocolate coats his tongue, the nuts adding a satisfying crunch.


	3. Third Part

**Part III**

Feeling bold, Kurt paces up behind Blaine a week following the delivery to class. Over the past week, he's sent and received over a dozen texts nearly every day from B., and he's determined to call Blaine out on it. After all, there were quite a few hints. And even though logic is telling Kurt that Blaine's new phone number doesn't match the one on Kurt's hand-me-down phone, and neither does Blaine's old cell, Kurt figures that logic must be wrong because somebody can always keep their old phone and change the number for it.

And so, quite assuredly, Kurt confronts Blaine. Smiling, he says, "I know it's you. It _has _to be you."

Blaine turns around at the sound of Kurt's voice and stops in the hallway to quirk an eyebrow. Chuckling lightly, he quips, "Okay, I'll bite. What has to be me?"

"My secret admirer. It must be you; don't even try to deny it, _B._," Kurt says alluringly, leaning in.

Blaine looks genuinely confused. "I don't know what you mean," he responds. "Kurt, I like you and all, but… we're just friends. Good friends who happen to be gay, but friends nonetheless." He pauses, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt tires not to crumble outwardly while Blaine says as softly as he can, "And besides, Kurt, I have a boyfriend. I was going to tell you, but… I knew it would hurt, since you seem to flirt with me so much."

And Kurt's crushed. He hides his tears and turns abruptly away, heading back in the direction he came from. With a huff, he bursts into the bathroom and slams his way into an empty stall. The bathroom is deserted, thankfully. And even more thankfully, these clean public toilets actually have lids on them, so Kurt's able to set one down and sit on it.

He puts his face in his hands. He doesn't cry, for once. Trying his best, Kurt holds it in.

Although this turn of events begs the question:_ if B. isn't short for Blaine, then what's it short for?_ Who else does Kurt know who has 'B' as an initial?

Quickly, he runs names through his mind. Rachel's last name is Berry, but she clearly loves Finn and besides, the admirer said he was male. So that's out. As is Brittany for the same reason, and even Quinn, who has a B in the middle of her last name. There's that one guy from school newspaper… Jacob Ben Israel, or something? B. could mean 'Ben'… but that's just stupid. Everybody knows that kid is obsessed with Rachel. And then there's that pianist, Brad, who does music a lot for New Directions, but that would just be… Kurt shudders. There has to be someone else he's missing. There's Brian in his history class at Dalton, but Brian is always seen out in the parking lot after hours making out with his girlfriend, among doing other things with her that fog up the windows of his car. So he's out, too. And then there aren't many other choices. Unless someone has a middle name or nickname that begins with the letter 'B' that Kurt doesn't know about, this is hopeless.

Sighing to myself, Kurt stands, about to leave the restroom. But just as he's about to, his cell pings.

'_Thinking about you.'_

It's from his stalker, of course. His crazy-in-love, gift-sending stalker. Kurt smiles lightly. _'Well, that doesn't sound disturbing at all.'_

A second later, B. replies, _'It depends on the context. In this case, it's purely innocent. I was wondering how your day has been.'_

Kurt sighs. _'Not very positive or uplifting,_' he admits, crossing his legs at the knee while he texts. _'I'm sorry, but I tried to figure you out today. I asked this friend of mine, Blaine, if he was you, but… he wasn't. He has a boyfriend already.'_

'_You seem depressed about it. Did you like him or something? Or was it just the thought that he might be me that made you feel so let down when he wasn't?'_

Kurt bites his lips as he reads this message. Cautiously, he types, _'I did like him. For a long while I have. But, ever since the first time I started talking to you… I don't know. I started to like you, too, but I also began liking him more, since I thought he might actually be you. And now I'm torn, because I still like you, and yet knowing Blaine isn't you hurts. But I think I can get over it.'_

There's something a tad dark in B.'s reply to this. He messages Kurt saying, _'You better get over him, because if he's who I think he is, he isn't worth your time. All guys like him are the same: arrogant, flippant, annoying. Pardon my French, but essentially big pussies. You deserve a real man, Kurt. Someone stronger than him, someone who can protect you and truly love you.'_

Kurt doesn't miss the implication. _'Someone like you, I presume?'_

'_Haha,_' B. texts, _'Of course. Who else would I mean?'_

Suddenly, an idea occurs to Kurt. He can use this talk of strength to his advantage. Feeling clever, Kurt texts, _'So, I suppose that means you're very muscular, then? Someone on a sports team, perhaps? Dalton doesn't have many of those. It's not a very jocky school. You must be from McKinley. Tell me… what sport do you play? Football?'_

There's a long pause between the texts, and Kurt idly stands from the toilet seat and heads out of the stall, and ultimately, out of the bathroom. The hallways of Dalton are empty, and Kurt feels secure, if not a bit lonely, as he treads lightly down them.

In his hands, his phone pings again. _'Ooh, aren't you a sneaky one. Yes, Kurt my dear, I go to McKinley. But as for which sport I play… I play multiple, so good luck narrowing down which team I'm on. Nice try, though. You get points for being quick on your draw. But my gun is faster, cowboy.'_

For some reason, a sharp thrill zips through Kurt, electrifying his fingertips to his toes. This guy… he's so _different._ Where the hell did he come from, and why wasn't he on Kurt's radar before?

'You know, you're a complex individual, B. I can't guess you. You constantly surprise me in everything you say and do. You're worse than Noah Puckerman.'

Kurt ceases movement for a moment. His own text gave him a thought. What if B. is Puck? 'B' could mean 'baby daddy,' since Puck knocked up Quinn last year.

Somehow, this notion sends shivers down Kurt's spine. B. being Puck would be… intriguing, and not entirely unwelcome. Kurt mindlessly licks his lips to wet them as he waits for another reply.

The only one he receives is, _'Now you're onto something, Kurt. At least you're getting warmer.'_

_Warmer?_ Kurt puzzles, putting his phone away. And what is _that_ supposed to mean?

xXx

Part IV


	4. Fourth Part

**Part IV**

Warmer.

It's usually referred to getting away from the cold, to being feeling back to one's body. But when playing a blind game of where-is-it (usually played when Kurt was younger and hunting for his Easter basket somewhere in the house), people will hint, "Oh, you're getting warmer! Oops, no, now you're cold. Try again."

So when it boils down to her Kurt's admirer is, what range is 'warmer?'

Apparently, Puck is 'warmer.' And what is Puck? A jock. A one-time juvie attendee. A bit of a punk. A used-to-be bully. A singer. A manwhore. A guy with more ethnicity than Kurt's own bland, pale skin. A guy with a soft side. A friend. A guy who has morals deep down, like he displayed when Quinn had been pregnant.

But someone who's secretly gay or bisexual? That doesn't seem likely. So obviously 'warmer' doesn't mean, 'on fire,' which thankfully doesn't mean that Puck is Kurt's admirer (not that Kurt would have minded, though. Puck's damn attractive and despite his bravado, a really great guy).

Kurt tries to think who might fit some of those descriptions.

Oddly, Finn can. Finn's in football. Finn can sing. Finn used to pick on Kurt a little, too. Finn even said the dreaded f-word (not 'fuck,' but 'fag'). But Finn isn't a manwhore (even if he slept with Santana, Kurt knows, but really, what straight guy _hasn't_ slept with Miss Lopez?), and Finn isn't a punk or a one-time juvie attendee.

And this might all be wishful thinking, since Kurt used to have a crush on Finn, but Kurt knows that it just wouldn't work. Finn is too straight to be gay, despite his metrosexual tendencies (ha, imagine that), and besides, they're stepbrothers now; it wouldn't feel right.

Kurt sighs. Who else is there? Jesse St. James? Sam? Singers, athletes, occasional jerks, and yet strangely squishy enough in personality to be hiding some homo inclinations.

One thought suddenly pops into Kurt's head, making him shudder and hug himself.

Dave Karofsky.

Proven closeted gay, bully, athlete, and for all Kurt knows, a record detention-keeper (which is close enough to juvie), and possibly a singer (since he seems to be a hypocrite about his sexuality, so why not about Glee Club as well?).

Kurt shakes his head. No, no. It just _couldn't _be Karofsky. Karofsky doesn't possess nearly as large of a vocabulary as B. uses, and besides, Karofsky could never be as sweet when it comes to gift-giving.

Although… Karofsky is definitely as creepy as a stalker, and while Kurt doesn't want to admit it, B. does sound a little dark at times in that possessive, suggestive way. But only at certain times. Otherwise, B. is too sweet.

Kurt shakes his head and flops backward onto his bed. He can hear Finn talking to Rachel on the phone just up the basement stairs. Apparently, they had some big argument that Kurt missed while at Dalton, and after Christmas Rachel became even more persistent in winning Finn's trust and love back, since he clearly never lost much of the latter, only felt betrayed, as Kurt understands it. And now the two are sorting out their problems, and trying to date again. Which is nice; honestly, Kurt thinks they deserve each other. They both have their faults, and they're both beautiful people, even if one of them is a bitchy control freak and the other is a little clueless.

Kurt twiddles his phone around his thumbs and forefingers while music plays from its speaker.

Suddenly, there's a soft sound Kurt hears coming from the other side of his basement wall. Shrugging, he imagines it must be a branch or an animal. Except most animals are hibernating or scarce in January, and animals and branches don't make repeated sounds that are almost like music.

Frowning, Kurt follows the sound up the basement stairs and out onto the back porch. He shivers as he stands near the patio door, feeling the cold air just beyond the glass. He quickly locates his coat, slips on some boots (his father's, he notices idly), and steps outside.

He follows the mysterious sound – it's definitely music – and goes around to the side of the house near where he bed would be inside, and finds a small boom box resting on a towel in the snow. It's been set on a timer to repeat a single song, probably until Kurt noticed it or it died out in the cold.

Bending down, Kurt finds an envelope tacked under the speakers of the device. Using numb, gloveless hands to open it, he reads as the song 'Please Don't Go' by Mike Posner plays, "I miss seeing your face, and I wish I could sing this to you. P.S. you're out in the cold right now, I'll bet, but are you any warmer?"

It sounds like a challenge. As if B. is saying, "Come on, I dare you to discover my identity."

Crumpling the note in irritation, Kurt grabs the boom box and towel and storms back inside his household. Okay, so the note is a little sweet, but also teasing, and it annoys Kurt. Who does this guy think he is? He's so… so…

"Captivating," Kurt murmurs, knowing that he really shouldn't get sucked into this, because it could be dangerous. B. says he's from McKinley, assumedly a student, but Kurt can never be sure. It's like when dealing with stalkers and anonymous people on the Internet: you never know who could be lurking. And Kurt never realized it, but it's terrifying that B. knows where he lives. If B. wanted to, he could break in, or something of that nature, and do whatever he pleased.

Kurt shudders again, thinking that sort of thing is possibly within the insane, unpredictable lines of something Karofsky might do.

But it can't be Karofsky. There's no connection outside of that one-time kiss. There couldn't have been real feelings behind that, right? It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing to make Kurt either shut up or even meant to be Karofsky's twisted means of hastily explaining himself. No matter the reason, it's still too little of proof. And besides, why would Kurt's bully miss seeing him? Bullies hate who they harass, don't they? But… if it just happened to be Karofsky, or someone like him, it would explain why B. is so hesitant to reveal himself, and also why he's taking some risks as well, since he doesn't always think clearly. (Kurt has learned this through some of their texts.)

Kurt doesn't want to think about it. He feels so torn inside; after talking to B. for weeks now, part of Kurt really likes the guy. He's charming, in his own way. And even if he's being secretive, Kurt can't help but feel the passion there, just out of reach, lying inside of each gift and each note with handwriting-disguised-by-typed-text.

Kurt decides idly to keep the boom box; the CD inside, he finds, is a mixed track of lonely, nearly eerie love songs, like 'Make Me Wanna Die' (The Pretty Reckless) and 'Kiss With A Fist' (Florence and the Machine) and 'Because I Want You' (Placebo) and 'Every Breath You Take' (The Police).

It gives Kurt chills, and despite himself, the chills feel tingly and pleasant.


	5. Fifth Part

**A/N: Shorter chapter this time, sorry. And yeah, I really don't know what's going on. This is like... a silly, filler fanfic to amuse me and help me work out my undeveloped idea of Kurt being stalked/admired by somebody. Sorry if I start to beat things aroudn the bush or get confusing. This is really just... weird. XD**

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**Part V**

'_I wish February would hurry up and get here. I wanted to do something special for you for Valentine's Day. If I did, would you be my Valentine, Kurt?'_ the soprano reads on his iPhone screen during the second before last week of January. He nibbles his bottom lip, wondering how to reply. His mind has been racing lately over this secret admirer business.

Because, recently, when Kurt answered the phone for Finn while the taller boy had been in the shower, Rachel murmured, "Oh, thanks. I'll call him back later. But before you go, Kurt… I'd like to ask you something: have you gotten any _weird_ things lately? Like, flowers or presents or candy?" she hinted, and it nearly stopped Kurt's heart dead at the time.

"H-how did you know about that?" he had sputtered, wondering what Rachel knew.

She giggled. "Oh, don't sweat it, Kurt. I was only teasing. Finn told me that you have a secret admirer, and I thought it was cute." She adds with a suspiciously intrusive tone, "But I wonder who would do something like that… Have you any ideas about who he could be?"

Kurt's cheeks flamed pink. "No. Please drop it, Rachel. You're making me extremely uncomfortable, even more-so than when I flip channels and catch clips of the _Keeping Up with the Kardashians_ or _Sixteen and Pregnant_."

And the conversation soon died down from there, and Rachel said goodbye, Kurt hanging up before he could return the phase. He shook his head and murmured into the bathroom door that Rachel had called before turning on his heel and returning to the basement.

And here he was, hours later, wondering what Rachel actually knew. By the way she spoke… it sounded like she knew more than she was letting on.

But Kurt knows he's just being paranoid.

xXx

"Do you remember Matt Rutherford?" Finn remarks lightly to Kurt one evening. "He transferred schools just before this year. And it's kinda a shame, 'cause he was a good football player, and he was great in Glee Club. I wonder how he's doing."

Kurt sends Finn a puzzled look. "…What makes you bring him up, all of a sudden?"

Finn shrugs. "Dunno. He just popped into my head, I guess. That happens sometimes, you know." He sends one of his lopsided smiles. "Too bad neither one of us got to know him better. Especially not you, man; I bet the two of you couldda actually been friends. Matt was a cool guy." Finn laughs a little. "In football, we'd sometimes call him 'Baller,' since he could spin a football on his palm. It was awesome to watch."

…'Baller?'

Kurt tenses. That starts with the letter 'B.' And… whenever they were in Glee Club together, Matt was never cruel to Kurt at all. Matt was one of those jocks who was torn between being cool and joining Glee, but chose Glee in the end. And mainly because of Finn, whom he seemed to look up to a bit. But could that mean Matt was secretly a little gay, and somehow developed feelings for Kurt, and found out through Finn where Kurt lives, and –

Kurt's head is spinning far too wildly for its own good, and with a hand rising to his temple, Kurt stumbles out of his chair in the living room and leaves for the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Finn asks where Kurt's going, but Kurt simply ignores him. There are just too many thoughts, too many bizarre possibilities…

And Kurt feels like he's going crazy over this nonsense. But how can he not? After all, it's all that he has to focus on beside school. No one he's liked has ever liked him back in the same way as of yet, and being homosexual, Kurt always has this nagging fear that he will never find anybody.

But… if there's someone out there, someone he knows who might be interested in him… Kurt at least wants to give the guy a chance. Except in order to do so, Kurt desperately needs to figure out who's chasing him.

And Kurt has a feeling that he might be able to pry information from Rachel, since she seemed so keen on finding out Kurt's reactions to his secret admirer's gifts earlier this week.


	6. Sixth Part

**Part VI**

"Something to tide you over before V-Day," the note reads, placed conveniently inside of Kurt's car seat, with a tiny gift in the passenger side. _Dammit,_ Kurt thinks. _I knew I should have locked my car when I left it out last night. Although… I _am _glad that only my admirer took advantage of it and not some random person who could've hot-wired it and stole it, or rigged my car in some way._

Sliding into the car and heating it up, Kurt reaches over and pops open the box. Curiously, there's another head of a perfectly red rose inside, precisely like the first time. Only around its stump of a stem is a thin silver ring. No markings on it, no jewels. And as Kurt removes a glove with his teeth and slips it onto his fingers, he finds that the ring only fits his thumb. Whether this is a mistake or on purpose so not to seem too binding (like a ring-finger sort of ring would be), Kurt doesn't care. It's beautiful, and seems to be made of real silver.

Taking a quick whiff of the flower, Kurt revs up his car engine and pulls out of the driveway, off to school again.

He's in a good mood, too; he plans on meeting up with Rachel after school today, like he's done in the past. In spite of their previous rivalry over solos, they truly are friends, and isn't it a friend's job to share information?

xXx

Kurt parks in the student parking lot at McKinley, not bothering to check for Karofsky's car; he knows that the meathead is most likely at practice; hokey runs through February, doesn't it? Kurt doesn't know, but he decides to chance it. He's in far too upbeat a mood to care about it much. He feels empowered, having an admirer. It makes the little things – even Karofsky – feel pale in comparison.

And so Kurt marches into the school, smiling at some people who wave at him, muttering a few, "Hello"s and "Long time no see"s and "How ya been?"s.

Kurt passes by Sam, who stops and doesn't a double-take. He grins, and retreats a step as Kurt also comes to a halt. "Kurt! Hey, man. Haven't seen you in a long while; since Sectionals, I think! How's Dalton?"

"Oh, rigorous in study but comfortable in student body. They're all so friendly there; and don't give me that look, most of them _are _straight, Sam. But the schooling is much more of a challenge, but I somewhat enjoy it. It helps me take my mind off of the drama for a while." And he smiles softly. "What about you? You seem cheerful."

Same laughs. "Yeah, I kind of am. I get to go see my cousin this weekend. He's like a big brother to me. He plays on the Iowa Hawkeye team; you know, one of the big college football teams? He might even go pro someday." He grins, his pink lips stretched over perfectly white teeth. "Actually, I'm wearing one of his jerseys under my hoodie." And he lifts his shirt to reveals gold and black with stripes of white, a hawk symbol in the center below the name 'Brandon.'

Kurt stills. His eyes grow wide. Why, lately, are all of these Bs popping up out of nowhere? Maybe it's because Kurt's subconsciously looking for them, but... could it be that Sam used the name of the cousin he looks up to as a pseudonym for himself? "Um, Sam… if you don't mind my asking, since I'm a little slow on the gossip… how have you and Quinn been? Still together unlike Finn and Rachel, I hope? – They try, but they don't seem as in tune with each other as you and Quinn."

Sam makes a face. "…Well… she recently took off her promise ring, and she won't tell me why. I know she has commitment issues – I know all about how Puck got her preggers last year – and as much as I understand that, it still hurts. I don't think we'll last as much as I want us to." And he sighs, scrunching a hand up in his white-blond locks.

Kurt can't believe this. What if B. is Sam because Sam isn't finding satisfaction in his relationship with Quinn, and figures he wants someone a bit less uptight as her, even a _guy?_ It would account for the sweetness – Sam is very loving when it comes to people he's interested in, clearly – and even the creepiness, because Sam probably has told _someone_ in order to know where Kurt lives, or maybe even got caught by someone in his attempts, and for all of the jocks Sam knows, they could be slipping in the creepier things to make Sam look bad and discourage his possible gayness.

Head swimming yet again, Kurt shakes it. He tries to come up with something to say. He manages, "I'm sorry to hear that, Sam. You seem to really love her." And he hopes that this is true, because as cute and ripped as Sam is, and as much as Kurt appreciates the fact that Sam can sometimes sound like Jesse McCartney when he sings, Sam is just… not quite Kurt's type. And he would hate to find out that B. is Sam only to break Sam's heart by telling him this. Because Sam is just too darling to have his heart broken.

Sam smiles sadly. "Yeah, I do. I've just never felt this way before, you know?" And as if a small heaven scent, Kurt feels like this is precisely what he needed to hear in order to rule Sam out.

Out of nowhere, a jock in a letterman bumps by, knocking Sam out of the way before stopping, turning, and tilting his head at Kurt, a puzzled, then surprised, and finally an angry expression crossing his facial features. (_Suddenly, Karofsky!_ Kurt thinks with bitter humor.)

In front of Kurt, Sam plainly scowls, his fists clenching.

"Hummel." Karofsky addresses, looking like a buck about to charge the vehicle whose headlights caught it. "What are _you_ doing back here."

Stiffly, Kurt answers with his hands clinging to his bag, "That's none of your business. But if you must know, I'm here to find Rachel to talk to her."

Karofsky snorts. "Good luck finding Berry Bitchilicous. Last time I saw her, she was headed out to her car. So you're wasting your time, fag. Shouldn't you be going back to your homo-Hogwarts?" And he shoves his hands in his jean pockets.

Sam takes a threatening step forward. "Watch it, Karofsky!" he snarls, oddly protective of Kurt, and it makes the shorter boy wonder. "I tackled you once, and I'll do it again. Lay off."

Karofsky removes his hands from the depths of his jean pockets and raises them in mock surrender. "Hey, hey, I'm only speakin' the truth. I was just leaving, anyway. See you queers later." And he turns and leaves, practically storming off.

Sam turns back to Kurt, his face completely wiped of malice. "Are you all right, Kurt? I swear, I hate it when he throws those words at you. You don't deserve them. You're a good guy; your sexuality shouldn't matter."

Touches, Kurt offers a smile. "I'm fine. He doesn't frighten me as much now that I don't have to deal with him every single day."

Sam nods. "That's good. But I was totally prepared to kick his ass for you –"

Kurt shakes his head, smiling more sincerely. "That won't be necessary. But thank you, Sam. It means a lot to me."

The blond returns the smile. "Anytime, Kurt."

And they say their goodbyes, Kurt heading off to his car and Sam to shoot some hoops against Puck and Finn in the gymnasium.

Admittedly, the soprano is lost. Sam couldn't be B., and yet… he seemed so kind just then, and protective, like "a real man," as B. mentioned. It's confusing. But perhaps driving to Rachel's house will help solve a few of the puzzle pieces that are missing.


	7. Seventh Part

**Part VII**

Kurt is greeted with open arms at Rachel's door by one of her fathers. "Oh, so you're Kurt! Rachel always speaks highly of you, did you know that?"

No, Kurt can honestly say he didn't, but he smiles politely anyhow and as he steps inside, requests the knowledge of Rachel's whereabouts.

Her father laughs. "Oh, she's just up in her room, blasting music. Why don't you go up and see her? Her room is the last door on the right, at the end of the hall."

"Thanks," Kurt says, and idly is asked if he would like a drink, but he declines as he heads up the stairs.

Kurt knocks, and Rachel's voice says, "Just a second!" before the music lowers to a tolerable octave. "Come in," she says a bit breathlessly, and Kurt assumes it's from singing along with the music.

Shyly, Kurt slips inside and watches as the brunette's face goes from surprised to giddy. She rushes him, giving him a brief hug.

"Hey, Kurt! How're you?" she says. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

"I came to talk to you about something," Kurt relays passively as he sits down on the edge of her bed and crosses his legs at the knee, both hands placed on top. Rachel hops onto her bed and sits Indian-style on it, gently folding her skirt over her stockings.

"It must be important, if you didn't just call me," she says half-teasingly. Her face grows serious. "But if it's about Finn, I'd rather not hear it."

Kurt shakes his head. "No, nothing about him. It's about… my admirer. I know you know about him. And what I wanted to ask is… do you know who he is?"

Rachel's face becomes intense, her eyes bulging for a second and her hands gripping and twisting her pink skirt. She makes an uncomfortable expression akin to a wince. "…Yeah, I know who he is."

"Tell me. I need to know."

She shakes her head rapidly. "Oh nononono, Kurt, I can't! He'd be so mad at me if I did. He trusts me, which is not easy for him! I mean, on the third of December I found him in the auditorium just _bawling,_ which was gross because I was going to use that stage and he was just sitting there on it, sniffling and crying, and looking pathetic like that is just so ugly on him –"

"Rachel! This isn't helping, you know. It's making me want to grill you even more about his identity!" Kurt reminds a tad sharply.

Rachel fidgets. "Oh. I know, I know… I'm so sorry. It's just… when I found him, he seemed so… different. I felt like I could ask him anything, and in his state, he'd tell me. So… we talked. And he told me that he really liked you, and realized that he missed having you around. So he asked me how he might make it up to you, and show you that he cares. I told him to become a secret admirer." She looks regretful, her hands held up near her chest. "Please tell me I wasn't doing the wrong thing, bringing his hopes up like that. I only wanted to help, because even though he isn't someone I'd normally associate myself with –"

Another dropped hint, Kurt takes note, but doesn't give away that he realizes this.

"– He's not really a bad guy. So… could you not tell him I said this? I know you two text sometimes. He confides in me in secret some days, and he says that he likes hearing how surprised you are when you find something new, and how much you're starting to like him. He wants you to, you know. He just doesn't know how to go about it in public." Rachel informs kindly. "And before you ask, I didn't give him any ideas outside of whatever questions he asked me about what some of your favorite things are."

And Kurt finally, truly understands. He nods solemnly, stands up from her bed. "Thanks, Rachel. I think that's enough for now." He offers a wayward grin. "I'll see you again soon."

She stands meekly, and opens up her arms. "One more hug before you go? I don't know why, but I miss you, too. And helping your admirer made me realize that you and I, despite our bickering, are actually good friends. Especially since, well, we have Finn between us. Your stepbrother, my want-to-be boyfriend." She giggles a little, and Kurt embraces her. She gives him a teeny squeeze before releasing him. "Look, Kurt," she begins softly, "No matter who your admirer turns out to be… can you at least give him a chance? Even if it's, like, someone totally unexpected or weird?"

Kurt smiles. "Yeah, I think I can do that. I mean, if the guy can buy me a ring," and he shows her his thumb, "And give me flowers and stuff all the time, he can't be all bad, right? Just like you stated oh-so eloquently."

She winks. "Exactly my point."


	8. Eighth Part

**Part VIII**

On the fourteenth of February, previously referred to a Lonely Hearts Day by Kurt due to a lack of a lover, Kurt steps outside, eager to see what his admirer has in store form him. And he doesn't have to look very far.

There, hanging in front of his door, is a note card with the text, "Look in your mailbox, Kurt," pasted onto it.

Grinning, Kurt steps out and opens the box in the chill February air, the last dregs of snow lingering in the shadows. As the lid lowers like a castle gate, Kurt is barraged with dozens of individually-wrapped Fannie May trinidads, his favorite truffles of the gourmet chocolate brand. Along with the chocolates that he has to bend down and scoop up off of the damp ground, there's a note stuck to the inside of the mailbox lid. It reads simply, "Sorry to pull a Juno on you, but I thought you'd like these better than Tic-Tacs."

And Kurt is bursting at the seams with fondness, because Rachel's right; whoever this guy is, he's just too thoughtful to pass up.

Kurt rushes back inside the house to dump off the treats, only shoving a couple into his bag to munch on at school. His father is in the kitchen, a two mugs of coffee in his hands; one for himself, one for Carole. He raises an eyebrow. "More sweets from your secret sweetheart?" he remarks with a chuckle.

Kurt blushes. "Stop it, Dad. He's not… I mean. He just likes me, that's all. And he's too chicken to show himself, so he's trying to court me otherwise. It's annoying, really. I don't even know who to thank every time."

He dad laughs. "Yeah, well. I can't help myself, son. It's nice to see something good happen to you after all of the torment you suffered last semester." He makes a pitying expression that soon passes. "Anyhow, have a great day at school. And would it be alright if –"

Laughing, Kurt replies, "Yes, Dad, or course you and Carole can have one or two truffles. It's not as though I'm going to devour all of them myself."

And on this note, Kurt heads back out to his car and off to Dalton Academy.

xXx

'_Oh, B. Why'd you have to go and give me all those chocolates? You're going to make me fat!' _Kurt jokes, texting under his desk to his Valentine.

'_I take it you're not happy with them, then?'_ B. replies, sounding dispopinted.

Kurt shakes his head as he thumbs the response, _'No, I'm just kidding. I love them,. They're my favorite, actually. I just feel guilty about eating them all myself, so I hope you don't mind that I'm sharing them with my family.'_

'_No, I don't mind,'_ come the answer after a while. _'They're yours, but that means you can do whatever you want with them. I'm just glad I made the right choice.'_

Smiling, Kurt says, '_Of course you made the right choice! You're just so sweet. I wish I could meet you,'_ and it's somewhat of a rouse to get B. to confess who he is, because Kurt is impatient. And this 'I wish' nonsense, Kurt knows, is the sort of guilty-trip he needs for someone to give him exactly the reaction he desires.

After a pause, B. messages, _'What if I told you I knew your friend, Rachel Berry? And what if I said that I could help her have us meet? Only I'd want you blindfolded, because I'm not ready for you to know who I am just yet. What would you say to something like that?'_

'_Well,' _Kurt doesn't hesitate to respond, his belly doing flip-flops with excitement, _'I would say that it's interesting you know Rachel, convenient that she could help us meet, and understandable that I would have to be blindfolded. And I would also say that I accept.'_

The reply to this is fast, and the words are jumbled from B. texting too quickly. _'Ohmygod that;s gret! When?'_

Interpreting the message as, "Oh my God that's great! When?" Kurt replies with, _'How about this weekend, Saturday perhaps, at seven? You can whose where.'_

'_Rachel's house. Her dads will be out this weekend, she said, and I'll have to run this idea by her, but I think she'll agree.'_ There's a pause, and then Kurt's cell buzzes again, _'You've made me so happy, Kurt. I saw you recently, but of course you didn't know it was me. But seeing you again... it reminded me how much I love you.'_

And Kurt is speechless. This entire time, B. has never stated his true feelings. He's expressed his interest enough through all of the gifts, but as far as saying aloud (well, though text) that he loves Kurt… it makes the poor boy's heart flutter and melt, knowing that some guy out there, someone from McKinley, actually loves him. And _romantically_ at that.

'_See you then, B.,'_ Kurt types with trembling fingers. _'I'm looking forward to it already, even though I have to be blindfolded.'_


	9. Nineth Part

**Part IX**

"Hi, Kurt," Rachel greets as she opens the door on Saturday. "You're right on time! He's already here, and I'm so glad you're giving him this chance, because it's actually adorable how nervous you're making him." She holds up a scarf of hers, black, something not easy to peek through. "Now, if you don't mind…"

With a playful off his his eyes, Kurt allows her to blindfold him. He closes his eyes and feels the soft fabric cover his eyes and over his brows, and even part of the top of his nose. He really can't peek, even if he wanted to. Rachel tightens it, asking if it's too much, but it's just fine. He nods, and then states, "Lead the way, Rachel."

Giggling, she takes his arm and leads him down a hall into a study. She releases him, leaving him standing in the center. "I'll leave you two be for a while. Good luck, B.," she says demurely, and Kurt can almost picture the telling flush dusted on her cheeks.

Kurt hears a door shut, and then the rub of leather as someone stands from the desk chair. Silently, B. makes his way to Kurt, and Kurt can feel his own heart speed up. He bites his lip, and touches a hand to the cloth over his eyes. "It's okay, B. I really can't see you," he says, sensing the other's hesitation.

As soon as the words fall from his lips, Kurt feels warm hands grasp his and raise them between them, something petal-soft on the surface but firm beneath touching his knuckles. A kiss. And then those larger hands are slipping out of Kurt's grasp to cup his face, stroking beneath the blindfold across Kurt's cheeks, and then down his jaw to his chin. Kurt can practically feel the buzz of his heart in his ears. Gently, B. leans in – warmth radiating from him. And Kurt notes idly that this is something he normally couldn't feel if he could see, because sometimes your eyes distract you from your other senses.

He can hear B. breathe in and out shallowly, timidly. And then his lips are on Kurt's, one hand sensually gripping the back of Kurt's neck, and Kurt can't help himself; he moves his lips in time with B.'s, trying to apply what he's seen on the television screen in shows and movies to his inexperience with kissing. And B. doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he gasps, breaking the kiss, as if startled that Kurt is reciprocating it.

"What's the matter?" Kurt questions softly, his voice a humble murmur. He reaches out blinding, and finds his admirer's chest, using it as a blind guide to reach B.'s face, and the other boy is tense, his heart rattling beneath Kurt's fingers as they trail up his sternum, up his neck, to rest along his jaw. "It's okay. I know this is weird – it is for both of us – but I don't mind. Don't be so shy. I…" his voice lowers a notch. "I _want_ you to kiss me."

And that seems to be all the invitation B. needs. He immediately has his mouth on Kurt's again, this time more aggressively, more hungrily. And the way he molds his lips over Kurt's, and the way Kurt responds, somehow elicits a soft sigh, nearly a moan, from Kurt. And this seems to fuel B. even more, making him bring Kurt flush again his body.

B. is warm, and much broader-shouldered than Kurt. They feel like they're nearly the same height, save for a few tiny inches. And Kurt feels so comfortable here, in B.'s arms, even though he doesn't know who B. is. B. is just… a string of words on a cell phone screen, a pair of arms and lips to touch, a person who's tender underneath whoever he is otherwise, and someone who seems to truly care about Kurt.

Kurt grips B.'s strong back, clinging to his t-shirt while they kiss, and somehow, Kurt finds his mouth free and the unfamiliar sensation of lips on his throat. He gasps into the darkness (since the blindfold is all he can see), shocked at how lovely that feels.

Suddenly, B. pauses, his lips hovering just above Kurt's damp skin where B.'s tongue had just been. In a barely audible whisper, B. asks, "Do you like me?"

And Kurt can't place B.'s voice; the whisper obscures it, making it nearly any male's. Kurt takes a step back, but doesn't let go of his admirer. "Yes," he confesses truthfully. "I can honestly say I was skeptic at first, and even once or twice during these past several weeks, but not anymore. I know that I like you. A lot."

"And if…" B continues to whisper, to maintain the anonymous sound of his voice, "If I was someone you didn't like as much before, would your mind change?"

Kurt pauses, thinking,. He brings a finger up to his teeth to bite down on the nail in thought. Slipping it out of his mouth, feeling B.'s eyes on him, he slowly nods. "Yes, I think it would. After all, you've given me so much lately; not just flowers and notes and candy, but a cell phone and a ring and… your kindness and thoughtfulness and humbleness and even… even your love," he says, voice falling soft. He smiles minutely. "And how can I say no to that?"

B. takes in a shaky breath, his hands moving to rest on Kurt's shoulders. Kurt doesn't so much as flinch at the sudden contact. Oddly enough, he trusts the person in front of him, even though he knows he probably shouldn't, since this person is a bit of a stalker.

"Then… then let me take off your blindfold," B. says, still whispering. "But don't open your eyes until I tell you to."

"Understood," Kurt murmurs, feeling his nerves light up with curiosity and nervousness. He smiles reassuringly. "Go ahead."

Then, carefully, B. reaches up and unties the knot in back, letting the scarf slip to their feet on the carpet between them. And Kurt inhales slowly in anticipation, shivering a bit.

B. touches Kurt's eyelids softly, making Kurt jump a little, startled. B. retracts his hand, then says in a gruff, unsteady voice that sends chills down Kurt's spine, "All right. Open them."

And Kurt is just able enough to contain a stunned yelp, swallowing it to the back of his throat. "B. is… _you_?"

* * *

**A/N: (Wow, I rarely do this bottom-notes...)**

**Okay, so, this story is wrapping up soon, believe it or not. And because of that, you all get to know who B. is next chapter! Problem is, some of you might not like the pairing, because that happens. It's to be expected. So if you end up not liking it, go right ahead and comment with a witty remark before ceasing reading. I will totally be okay with that. So long as you don't say things like, "OMG YOU F#CKING BITCH, I WANTED B. TO BE SO-AND-SO INSTEAD!" I won't mind you complaining a little. ;D**

**And wow, look at all those reviews! I'm so shocked! Thank you all for the overwhemling support for this fanfic, since it feels so silly and random and short and not my best to me. XD**


	10. Tenth Part

**A/N: And now the moment you've all been waiting for...**

**Feel free to load your guns, be them confetti canons of joy or rifles of anger, I'll take either one.**

**

* * *

**

**Part X**

Rachel bursts in before B. can respond. "Oh!" she says in surprise. "You… let him see you? I'm proud of you, Big D, but are you sure? He looks a little… confused." She steps closer. "Kurt…? Are you okay?"

Kurt is closing his eyes and shaking his head slowly, his hands coming up to grip his hair, palms over his ears, loud with his own pulse. _No, I'm most certainly _not _okay,_ he thinks, screaming in his mind. _Why couldn't it have been Puck or Sam?_

Of course. "Big D" is one of his nicknames. Kurt's heard it before, in the locker rooms, back when Kurt was kicker on the football team. Some joked that it stood for 'big dick,' but everybody knew it was really as play on his name.

Big David. Big Dave. Tall, broad-shouldered, thick, meatheaded David Karofsky.

Kurt's a bit in a state of shock. His mind is blowing through thoughts in a torrent as violent as a tornado; his brain racing against the beat of his heart, and at the moment, his brain is winning.

B. is Karofsky, who is the essence of a hypocrite in Kurt's eyes, as well as a self-destructive individual who takes out his self-loathing on others. To Kurt, Karofsky is everything B. shouldn't be. And yet here Dave is, looking at Kurt with everything in his eyes, and Rachel is turning back and forth between them, not sure who to comfort.

She settles on saying, "Kurt? Say something."

"Please," Dave adds with a clenched jaw, and he looks as though he's about to take one of the throw pillows in the room (or possibly a book) and chuck it across the room. Almost to himself, Dave remarks, "I fucking _knew _this would happen. That's why I wanted to remain anonymous!" And then he _does_ get a little violent, kicking at the back of a chair.

"Dave, please! Calm down," Rachel says. "My dad won't appreciate you abusing his office chair." She shakes his head. "_Honestly,_ your temper. You need to express your pain better." She steps over to him and touches his arm. In a whisper that Kurt can't hear, she murmurs, "Go over there and convince him. I think he's just a little confused. He wasn't expecting it to be you, but if you just remind him of how sweet you can be, I think he'll be more open-minded like I know he has the potential to be."

Dave inhales deeply, and exhales again slowly. "Okay, Berry. Thanks." And he takes a few steps over to Kurt, mindful of how the shorter male's eyes flicker upward, his head following, as he backs up one step, but then stills when he spots the hurt, gentle expression Dave currently wears on his face.

Kurt stares up at Dave with widened eyes, big and blue and glassy, as if he's about to cry. But there's no fear there. Only confusion and surprise and uncertainty.

Dave takes Kurt into his arms, tucking the boy against his chest and cupping one hand behind his head in his soft hair. "Kurt… I'm sorry. For everything. I know you only think the worst of me, but remember all those things I've been doing for you for the past – what, two and a half months? December and January and now half of February – and how you liked them? Well, that's the real me, Kurt. The me that I can't show at school because everybody would call me a pussy or a wimp or a poser." He shakes his head, and having Kurt so close nearly makes him want to cry onto his shoulder or kiss him. "So… try to understand, okay, Kurt? And give me a chance. I could be so good to you, if you let me. And who knows? Maybe you'll give me the courage to be different outside of when I'm with you."

Kurt pushes away, but not as ferociously as that day in the locker room all those months ago. Instead, he pushes just hard enough to look Karofsky in the face. "I… understand," he murmurs shakily. He offers a tiny, loose smile. "I think… I think I can handle this if you do just that. No more pain and death-threats, because those things are just so below the B. that I know."

Dave chuckles a bit, out of nerves. "Yeah, you're right. So… you'll really be okay now? With me?"

Kurt looks torn. At length, he utters two simple words: "I'll try."

xXx

He really does try. When texts appear, Kurt changes the name from 'Your Stalker' to 'David,' and when he refers to the other male, he uses the name 'Dave' instead of 'B.' or 'Karofsky,' like he was previously accustomed to.

And when one of his family members question if Kurt's figured out who his admirer is yet, he brushes it off in some way, shape, or form; ignoring the question, picking up a task instead, saying that he doesn't know, or simply shrugging like it doesn't even matter. It throws off Burt and Carole the most, since they noticed before how ecstatic Kurt had been each time he got a new batch of flowers or chocolates or another trinket of some sort, and notice now how Kurt seems too mortified to speak of anything relating to it.

Kurt hasn't stopped getting things from Dave. Dave will send a rose or two on occasion, and more than once he's given Kurt a box containing a new DVD (usually a musical or chick-flick of some sort he thought Kurt might like, and somehow, Kurt always does) or once, a t-shirt (it was for Wicked, and how Dave got it without going to Chicago himself, Kurt doesn't even know).

And it's getting better. Kurt's growing used to Dave being this way, the visuals of the past blurring into the background as the actions of now come into the foreground.

'_Let's go on a real date this time,'_ Dave texts one day during the first week of March. _'That "blind" one was fun and all, but Rachel was there, and we haven't seen each other since. I want to take you somewhere. I want to touch you again.'_

Flushing pink, Kurt warily texts, _'Yeah, okay. When and where?'_

'_This weekend, on Friday. I'll pick you up at five. We can go to an early dinner and then a movie. But don't expect me to come in and meet the folks when I show up; last time I checked, you dad kind of hates my guts.'_

'_Only kind of. (;'_ Kurt jokes, smiling. _'But it sounds good. I'll see you then.' _He sends the text, and as he does so, his heart flutters. Somehow, the idea of going out on a real date _alone _with Dave Karofsky is both exciting and terrifying.

* * *

**A/N: I planned it all along to be Dave, but if you hadn't already guess by one of Kurt's initial thoughts, I was VERY SORELY TEMPTED to make the pairing either Puck/Kurt or Sam/Kurt. Dunno why I bothered thinking about it; I have WAAAY too large a soft spot for Dave. X3**

**More soon! Dunno how much longer this will be, though. Pro'lly no more than 15 parts, I should think. Pro'lly less than that, even. :/**


	11. Final Part

**Part XI**

"I made you another mix CD," Dave mumbles as soon as Kurt piles into his car. "Want to listen to it? I chose some of my favorites, so that you could see what I like."

It's unseasonably warm in Ohio on this March night, and Kurt feels as though he's overdressed for wearing the long-sleeved shirt and jacket that he is. But he smiles at Dave, pretending that he isn't too hot. "Play it."

Yet as soon as Dave does start playing the music as he pulls out of the driveway, he glances at Kurt and somehow _knows._ With a roll of his eyes, he stops on the side of Kurt's street and reaches over to yank at the collar of Kurt's jacket. "Take it _off, _Hummel."

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Kurt snaps.

"You're too hot. There's sweat on your forehead and your cheeks are flushed." He snorts, "I swear, Kurt, sometimes you think too much about fashion and not enough about practicality."

Kurt stares, slightly taken aback. He can't even describe how bizarrely touching that is, because even though Dave sounds like he's being petulant and mocking, he's actually being… considerate. Blinking, Kurt mutters as he strips off his jacket, "Thanks, I guess."

"Whatever," Dave mumbles, and moments later they're driving again, and Dave starts to sing along with the music. It's Frank Sinatra's, 'It Was A Very Good Year,' and Kurt is only vaguely familiar with it because of his father's mixed taste in music. He never truly listened to the lyrics before, but as he hears Dave sing them (quite well, Kurt notes), he starts to cry. The melody itself is sorrowful and haunting, and beautiful, and then the lyrics are the same.

"I… never gave much thought to any music older than the eighties," Kurt admits softly. "But this… this is lovely."

Dave laughs shortly. "My taste in music is weird. On the one hand, I have Sinatra and Bublé and stuff, crooner music, but on the other hand I have Bruce Springsteen and Billy Idol, and then there's other stuff, like Thirty Seconds To Mars and Savage Garden." He shrugs. "I don't even know half the stuff I listen to, I just like it."

How come, before this whole secret admirer business, Kurt never saw this other side of Karofsky? This softer version of the bully, the one aptly Biblically named, the one that lacks the creeper-attitude and is just… a normal guy. Well, mostly. Dave still has plenty of issues with himself and his sexuality, but when he's with Kurt, the soprano can almost forget all of that because Dave doesn't act like it. He's openly affectionate, as long as they're alone.

xXx

During the movie, Kurt is so absorbed that he doesn't notice until he feels it, but Dave had been slowly edging closer, and finally, he subtly slipped his hand beneath Kurt's on the armrest, turning up his palm to interlock fingers.

Kurt tenses, not at all expecting the gentle touch to come from the jock beside him. But he welcomes it, and even gives Dave's hand a small squeeze. It's these spontaneous moments that make Kurt feel comfortable, despite the stalking, despite the bullying, despite everything else negative that's happened between him and the individual whose hand he's holding.

xXx

They wind up staying out late, past midnight, going around to places from their childhoods – parks and certain memorable stores – and even to another movie. And through it all, Dave pays for everything, saying that he has a job at the moment and that Kurt shouldn't worry about it. He buys Kurt any snack or refreshment he wants when he wants it, and once, Kurt didn't even have to ask or mention that he was thirsty, and Dave was thrusting a water bottle to Kurt's chest, stating that he thought Kurt might need it.

And the entire time they're out, Kurt is thinking about how he's never had more fun in his life. Sometimes Dave slips into his usual façade, when there are too many people, and he acts more like a reluctant friend or a guy tolerating his annoying cousin, and it would piss Kurt off if it weren't just a tad adorable in a twisted sort of way.

By the end of the night, Dave and Kurt are saying an awkward goodbye, awkward because Kurt can tell by the look in Karofsky's eyes that he doesn't want Kurt go home yet. But Kurt himself is just too tired to do much more.

"I had a lot of fun," Kurt murmurs honestly. "I'll see you again soon."

And just as Kurt pops open the car door, Dave grabs his wrist. "Wait!" he says slightly too loud, and Kurt turns back, staring. Dave releases him, realizing that he might be hurting Kurt. He fumbles, "Um. Are you ever coming back to McKinley? You know I wouldn't bully you anymore if you did, right?"

Kurt nods. "I do know that, but… it's March, and school ends the first week of June, and that's only two months from now. It would be pointless and messy to try and transfer those credits. But… I'll be back next year. And there's the entire summer when you can see me all you like without anyone having to know."

Dave gives Kurt a torn look. Then, with a flare of anger, Dave punches the back of his seat as he pivots in it to face Kurt further. "That's so fucking stupid! Why do I keep hiding?"

And Kurt knows that Dave isn't angry at the soprano, but rather at himself. Kurt reaches over and touches Dave lightly on the arm. "It's okay, Dave. I know that it's scary for someone like you to come out, and that you fear rejection above all else. You feared me rejecting you; you fear your friends and parents rejecting you. I get it, David, I really do." He pauses, daring Dave to utter the stereotypical throwback, the spiteful, 'No you don't,' or, 'Yeah, do you really?' But when it doesn't come, Kurt decides to share quietly, "When I thought my dad didn't know I was gay, I was scared shitless. But you get past it, because the people who truly care about you come around sooner or later."

The jock nods stiffly, thoughtfully. Then, slowly, he turns back to grip the steering wheel. "You should get inside now, Kurt. I bet your dad is pissed."

Kurt smirks. "No, he isn't. I texted him every time I went to the bathroom. He knows that I'm out late, and after assuring him that I'm not drinking, doing drugs, or having sex, he's fine with me breaking curfew."

Dave glances at Kurt, blinking. "Damn, Kurt. You're fucking _fortunate._ My parents, I'm sure, are either going to tear me a new asshole for this, or ground me. And if I'm really lucky, they haven't noticed and don't care. But that's rare."

The glee member shrugs. "Yeah, well. As sorry as I am for you, I honestly couldn't be happier for myelf."

Dave chuckles, a hint of sarcasm lacing the sound. "I bet you are." He exhales through his nose. "Anyway. It's late. So… goodnight."

Kurt smiles earnestly. "Goodnight, David." And without planning it but doing it because he knows Dave wants him to, Kurt leans over and gives the jock a peck on the cheek.

Then Kurt is out the open car door and entering his home, briefly greeting his dad when he finds the middle-aged man flipping channels in the dark living room lit only by the television screen.

"Enjoy yourself?" his dad asks cheerfully. "And I know that must have been your admirer and not a 'friend' like you said, because you're smiling too damn much."

Kurt giggles breathlessly. "You caught me." He plops down on the couch beside his father. "But I promise nothing major happened. We saw some movies, went to a playground and sat on the swings, having a who-can-reach-the-highest contest, and then got some ice cream at Dairy Queen from the drive-thru. It was… nice."

He dad pats him on the knee for a passing moment. "I'm glad, son. I love seeing you as happy as I feel as a married man."

Kurt laughs. "It's hardly the same, Dad." He yawns. "Oh, boy. I need to get my beauty sleep. I'll see you in the morning, most likely late, around ten in the AM. G'night."

"'Night, son," Burt replies, un-muting the TV.

And after a speedy version of his usual nightly routine, Kurt gratefully collapses onto his mattress, snuggling under the covers and sighing. Somehow, something that should be so undeniably wrong feels so undeniably right, and he'd like to think it's because of the indescribably powerful chemistry between him and Karofsky.

And Kurt can tell that, despite how it ignited (with bullying) and how it set on fire (with secret admiring), this chemical burn is something that is guaranteed to stick around for a while, because as long as Kurt and Rachel are able to help him, Dave can turn out to be a remade man, one that just might be worth holding on to.

**END.**

* * *

**A/N: I decided to end it here, and while I know this isn't very satifsying for some/most people, please understand that there are plenty of fics (even my own) that do the whole, "falling in love, introducing to parents, yadda yadda coming out yadda" stuff between Kurt and Dave afterward, so yeah. I wanted it to just be like this.**

**Thanks for sticking with me, you guys! And be on the lookout for other stuff of mine (if you like Karomel/Kurve/Kurtofsky)~! Tootles! 8D**


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